I Am Your Dad!
by Secret52
Summary: A 12-year-old Peter Pevensie recalls a particular difficult spanking! Set in Tia-Pixie's fanfic 'You Think You're Dad' WARNING: Parental spanking!
1. Difficult Day

**A/N: This is a story I wrote off of Tia-Pixie's Chronicles of Narnia story called 'You think You're Dad!' You should probably check her story out too because it's epic. Thank-you Tia-Pixie for letting me borrow this great story idea!This story takes place as a memory at the begining of chapter two when Peter, after spanking Edmund, remembers that he also told his own father that he hated him. READY! READ AND DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**

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_**Disclaimer: Don't own these characters!**_

_**John and Ida Pevinsie are the parents (I don't know their real names!).**_

_**Peter Pevinsie = 12 years old**_

_**Susan Pevinsie = 10 years old**_

_**Edmund Pevinsie = 7 years old**_

_**Lucy Pevinsie = 3 years old**_

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**"I Am Your Dad!"**

"_I hate you, Peter." A few last tears trickled out over the dark lashes and onto the pillow but his face remained set. He didn't even flinch as his brother threw his discarded day clothes at him, strode angrily to the door and slammed it shut, the whole room shaking as he did so._

_Suppressing a sob, Edmund turned over carefully, and pulled his suitcase out from underneath his bed. Leaning over and leaning in, he rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. Shoving his case back under the bed, he turned over and hugged his prize to his chest with both arms. It was a small, tatty black bear wearing a pale blue knitted jumper with an embroidered 'E' which their mother had made for him when he was a baby. He hugged it tighter and began to cry again._

* * *

Peter paused and sighed outside the door as he slammed it shut, leaning his head back against the wood. He _hated_ him? The words had stung but if he was honest, he supposed he might have said the same had their roles been reversed – he had certainly said it to their father after a particularly difficult spanking.

Peter leaned back against the wall tiredly, trying to calm down. His memory flew back to a time when the dreadful war hadn't touched their lives...and when his father had been home.

* * *

**Flashback**

12-year-old Peter Pevinsie kicked the dirt road, annoyingly, making a fine layer of dust coat his school shoes. He scrunched his face, sulkily turning to see why his two younger siblings were laging behind.

A 10-year-old Susan was walking slowly and carefully in order to not get her school clothes dirty. She would lift one foot high before gently setting it down again. No billows of dust would be made this way. Edmund, the youngest of the trio and youngest boy in the family, was walking slowly in order to kick a stray rock he had found all the way home.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Can't you two walk any faster?" he asked irritated.

"Of coarse we can," Edmund told his brother cheerfully and with a mischevious look in his eye began to walk even slower than before.

Peter glared but it hardly did any good just then. Susan hadn't even looked up, refusing for even one speck of the reddish-brown dust to mar her clothing.

Peter growled with exasperation under his breath and tried for the threatening older brother approach. "If the both of you don't hurry up, Mum will probably be angry and send you to bed without supper."

Susan finally looked up, throwing a glare of her own but picked up her pace, falling in stride with her older brother.

"She wouldn't!" Edmund protested but he too hurried to peter's side and tratted along without farther comment.

All the children were incredibaly hungry for several reasons. The first being that they had gotten up late and had not had time to eat breakfast. Then they had had their lunch stolen at school by T.J., the regular school jerk and his croonies. The three of them had been having a rather bad day and thought it a fine idea to pick on the Pevinsie children. This created a bad idea for Peter, Susan, and Edumnd as well. Peter had been having a particularily bad day. He recalled it now as he walked home from school with his siblings.

First off, leaving the house with an empty stomach is never good for one's temper. Peter had felt irritated from the start and the sunny moring did nothing to cheer his composure. He had not felt like walking to school that moring so he had very politly, in his opinion, asked his mother if he could ride his bike to school. His father had bought it for him a few months back. His mum, however, shot down the idea by explaining that Susan was a lady and Edmund was too little to be walking to school without an older brother.

Peter had started to argue but at that moment his father stepped into the room and the young boy snapped his mouth shut. He knew how his Dad felt about disrespectful backtalk. He'd gotten spanked before for doing so. Sulkily, Peter had walked to school with his brother and sister in tow.

Once at school he realized that he had forgotten his homework. Luckily, on account of past good behavior, Peter's teacher let punishment slide, but Peter ended up failing a test that he had forgotten to study for and he had also graciously backtalked his teacher while being scolded for whispering in class.

Then T.J. had approache Peter and his younger siblings just before the lunchhour. Two of T.J.'s gang friends were with him and they had demanded the Pevinsie children to hand over their lunches.

"No, thank-you," Peter told them in a firm, quiet voice as he stood up protectively in front of Susan and Edmund.

T.J. chuckled. "Have it your way, Pevinsie."

Five minutes later Peter, T.J., and T.J.'s two friends, Micheal Cook and Robert Lair, were being scolded firmly in the headmaster's office while the school nurse dressed their wounds. Peter winced as his bloody lip, nose and bruised cheek were tended to. The headmaster finished his ranting and turned towards them.

"Well," the headmaster had come to a decision. "I'll need to make an example of the four of you. I won't have children fighting one another in the schoolyards. It is not a way to solve problems."

The three older boys had been given 30 licks with the long ruler. Peter, being younger, was only given 20 stinging swats. Tears filled the little boy's eyes but he bit his lip and put up with the discipline bravely...until the headmaster handed each of them a note.

Peter gulped back more tears and felt his heart pound. He knew that the note would contain that day's misbehavior and that his father would have to sign it.

Years ago, when Peter had first started school, his Dad had written down rules for his children to follow. One of thes was if John Pevinsie ever had to recieve a note from school telling that one of his children had misbehaved and/or been disciplined at school there would be punishment when they arrived home.

For the rest of the school day Peter squirmed uncomfortably in his seat trying not to think about his growling stomach or the dreaded note. Several times he considered ripping up the note and throwing it away but knew that it was not the best of ideas. If his Dad found out that he had tried to hide the note, he would be less than pleased.

After school he waited for Susan and Edmund at their usual spot near the Union flag. The younger two arrived and Susan pounce on Peter at once.

"Oh my, look what they've done to your face," the little girl exclaimed in alarm. "Mum's going to have a fit."

"Well, don't tell her the truth," Edmund supplied all-knowingly as he inspected his big brother's battle wounds.

Peter gave them both a Look. "Let's just get home." He began to head in the direction of their house.

"What happened in the headmaster's office?" Susan pestered as they walked. "Was he angry? Did he yell? Did he give you a note?"

Peter nodded, stiffly to the last question. No way he was admitting he got spanked.

"Oh Peter," Susan sympathized sadly.

Edmund's eyes widened at the mention of the note. He knew about that. Their dad had spanked him for getting a note once. "Notes aren't any good for our health, are they Pete?" he declared.

"eter sighed tiredly and squinted at the hot, bright sun. "No Ed, I suppose they're not. Don't tell Mum or Dad anything. I'll tell them myself."

Susan and Edmund nodded and they had trudged on in silence and were now standing in front of their house. The younger two dashed forward into the house in search of food, but Peter just couldn't bring himself to enter. He sighed and scuffed one shoe in the dirt. He was in so much trouble and he just knew he was going to be spanked. If he headmaster's swats had stung he could only imagine how his father's were going to hurt. Dad's spankings always hurt but were also a powerful reminder for whenever the child sat down.

Another thing to consider was that in the headmaster's office no one outside the room had heard what had happened inside. Not even Susan of Edmund knew he had been disciplined and he sure didn't want his siblings hear him cry like a baby, especially his youngest sister Lucy.

The baby of the family would always cry if someone was in trouble. Lucy was only three but she was already the type of girl that was compassionate and would be distressed if someone was unhappy.

Peter finally decided that he wouldn't tell his father about the note until later that night when his younger siblings were on their way to bed. His discipline would usually take place in the bedroom that he and Edmund shared or in his father's study. The study was well away from the bedrooms and Peter was sure that his dad would be the only one to hear him cry.

With that thought Peter marched into the house, through his book bag on the table and ran into the kitchen. He never noticed the note fall from his bag and land in a nearby chair.

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**Like it!? Review and tell me what you think! Should I write more? REVIEW PLEASE!**


	2. Study Spanking

**Chapter 2**

Edmund walked out of the kitchen and moved into the dinning room. The sandwich was most appeasing and his stomach was definitley settling down. He pulled out at chair and sat down, only to hear a 'scruntch' from underneath him. Pulling out the note, he realized it was Peter's note from the headmaster. Looking around and seeing no one Edmund settled back in the chair comfortably and began to read it.

A few minutes later, his mother, Ida Pevensie, came out of a nearby doorway and glanced down at her usually talkative son, wondering what had him sitting so quietly. She came to stand over his shoulder.

"What's this, Edmund?" she asked, then stopped, recognizing it as a note from the children's headmaster.

Edmund looked up, guiltly at being caught and tried to bury the note underneathe the table. However, his mum snatched it from his hand before he had a chance.

"Edmund?!" Ida turned toward her son, eyes alarmed at what she had read. '_Edmund had been fighting at school._' "What is this?" she demanded, believing that the note indicated that Edmund had gotten into a fight at school.

Edmund's eyes widened in disbelief at what he knew his mother was thinking. "No mummy, it wasn't me. Honest!"

"Oh and who else would it be?" his mother asked him sternly.

At that moment Peter walked into the room, nonchalantly and stopped, seeing the note in his mother's grip.

"Peter was the one in trouble, not me!"

Edmund's quick statement caught his mother and Peter off guard. "WHAT!?" Ida shouted in a delayed action, while turning toward Peter. Her eldest son was usually the most responsible and sensible of the four children.

Peter felt his own jaw drop. Edmund had definitely turned him in quickly enough. Shooting a quick glare in his brother's direction, he turned toward his mother. "Listen, mum I can explain," he started taking in a deep breath.

"You will indeed, young man," Ida scolded, now that her shock had passed. "I can not believe that the headmaster had to send home a note about you fighting at school. And he spanked you in school as well. I am ashamed of you behavior, Peter Pevensie, ashamed."

Peter felt himself flushing at his mother's scolding. It was so much worse because Edmund was in the room and his mother had mentioned the headmaster's punishment._ It wasn't my fault! _he thought bitterly. He tried to control his temper but it burst out of him at his mother's last words. "I don't care what you think," Peter shot back, hotly. "You always yell at me when I'm in trouble just because I'm the oldest. You wouldn't even let me explain. YOU THINK YOU KNOW EVERYTHING BUT YOU DON'T, MUM!"

"Peter."

Peter froze. He hadn't even heard or seen his father enter the room, but the one word had appropriately frozen him on the spot. The young boy looked around at the shocked faces of his mum and Edmund. No doubt that Susan and Lucy had heard his shameful outburst as well. He cringed as he turned around to face his father.

John Pevensie had a neutral expression on his face as he studied his twelve-year-old child. Seemed the boy was getting to big for his britches...again. Peter seemed to be at an age where he would challenge his parents authority about every couple of months. This blatant disrespect was not going to be allowed, though.

He motioned at Peter towards the general direction of the study. "Find a corner in the study, please. I'll be there in a moment."

Peter flushed hotly at the childish prediction but hurried to obey.

Once Peter left John turned to his wife and gave her a tired smile. He really didn't want to discipline Peter right now.

Ida wordlessly handed her husband the note and gave his hands an encouraging squeezed before turning to make dinner.

"Is Pete in touble, Dad?"

John turned his gaze at seven-year-old Edmund whose eyes were still as wide as an owl's. "That is none of your concern, little one. Go on and help your mother in the kitchen, there's a good lad." Edmund took off into the kitchen.

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Peter sighed as he observed the boring angles of his corner. He couldn't believe Edmund had spoiled his plans for telling his parents later in the day. Now his father was going to be furious with him and mum had scolded him without even listening to what he had to say. It just wasn't fair!

Behind him he heard the door to the study open and close and knew that his father had returned.

John leaned against the front part of his desk and turned to look at his son. He had read the note and figured that Peter had some serious explaining to do. He took a quiet, steading breath before calling his boy over. "Come here, please." he called quietly.

Peter turned from the corner and walked to his father, dragging his feet. He wouldn't be surprised if his father spanked him without listening to him first. After all, the note had all of his misbehavior of the day in it and his father would spank him because he had been spanked at school. What other explanation did his dad need?

John picked Peter up from under the armpits and sat him on the desk behind him, then leaned an arm on either side of Peter providing a caged effect. "Would you please explain to me why you were fighting at school today," John ruled firmly but kindly.

Peter looked into his daddy's eyes, surprised at the chance to tell his side of the story. Perhaps there was a chance of there being no second spanking. He swallowd bravely and took a deep breath, calming his anxiety. Then proceeded to tell his father everything before he could stop himself. He told him about the entire terrible day, leading up to the fight and the headmaster's discipline. Peter had tears flowing down his face freely. He couldn't stop, the day had just been so difficult.

John sighed as he wiped away some of his darling son's stray tears. His son had indeed had a horrible day for someone so young. He didn't want to have to punish him on top of everything that had happened but Peter should have gone to an adult instead of fighting and the disrespectful tone that his son had used on his mother was not something John approved of. He had to nip these problems in the bud before it arose to bigger problems. Peter had to learn to give his mum proper respect.

Peter finished telling his dad everything and felt relieved when his father pulled him to his chest in a hug.

"I'm sorry you had such a difficult day, Peter," John whispered comfortingly into his son's ear. "But I know you know better than get into a fight at school or talk to your mother as disrespectfully as I heard you do in the dining room, young man." He pulled Peter back and looked into his eyes. "I'm going to have to give you a spanking, whether you like it or not."

Peter swallowd hard, a few more tears falling. "But the headmaster already spanked me. And it really hurt," he wailed pitifully.

"I know my boy, I know but it needs to be done."

Peter nodded bravely before asking, "Dad?"

"Yes, Peter."

"C-can you not spank me right now?" he asked nervously.

John lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? And why is that?" Sterness was edging back into his voice. _Don't be trying to get out of this Peter_, he thought.

"I'm not trying to get out of the spanking, Dad, I swear," Peter hurried on as if reading his father's thoughts. "I just don't want to upset everyone. Can you spank me later? Right before bedtime, maybe?" he mumbled looking away.

John smiled inwardly in understanding. "Very well. Go on to dinner and after your siblings go to bed we'll finish this discussion, understood?" he told Peter sternly.

Peter nodded and hurried from the room.

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Later that night, after Susan, Edmund and Lucy had gone to bed, John placed a hand on Peter's shoulder and nodded at him. "Time for our talk," he told told the small boy sternly.

Peter gulped as he allowed himself to be led back into the study. His father closed the door behind them and sat down on the sofa that was against the wall. Peter felt himself being pulled quickly over his father's knees. He flushed as he felt his braces being undone and then they were slidden down from his bottom along with his underpants.

"Why are you getting this spanking, Peter Pevensie?" John questioned as he gave Peter a small **swat **on his bottom.

Peter, feeling insulted of having to go over this again from his position, pressed his lips together firmly, opting for silence. **SWAT**

John spanked Peter a second time as he felt his son's small ripple of anger at being questioned. "If you don't start answering we may be here longer then necessary son." **SWAT SWAT SWAT **

Peter gave a involuntary yelp at those swats. "No, Dad I-" he was cut off by five more spanks.

**Swat Swat Swat Swat Swat**

Peter kicked his legs out, still angry. He hated getting spanked. It always ended up with him crying like a little baby. He was almost thirteen for crying out loud...or not. And he had already been disciplined once today too. "I got into a fight at school and was backtalking mum when I shouldn't have been," he quickly said deciding to say it all in one breath.

John nodded. "Good boy, little one." After that he settled on concentrating on the spanking itself. He made sure to cover the entire small bottom before him. He spanked down in the crease where bottom met thighs especially.

"Aaaaaahhhhh, Daddy don't, not there," Peter squealed out, tears falling from his eyes and his legs kicking frantically.

John moved to spanking closer in between the legs at the most sensitive undercurve his child had and payed special attention to that particular area.

"Daddy, owwie, nooooo. You can't do this!" Peter wailed. He squirmed harder trying to loosen himself from his daddy's grip. When that didn't work he threw back his hand in attempt to stop the spanking.

John quickly caught the wayward hand and swatted it firmly.

"Daddy," Peter protested. He felt tears of unfairness and frustration come to his eyes once more.

John mentally sighed. "You know better then to interrupt your spanking, little one. I'm going to have to give you five extra for that."

Peter felt his face flush a deep red at the babyish nickname. "Noooo!" **Swat Swat Swat** The swats continued to fall, rhythmically. The tops of Peter's thighs were spanked to a dark pink as well.

"We're almost done," John shushed gently. "After your spanking you are going to apologize to your mum clear?"

Peter nodded, frantically just wanting to be let up.

"You are also going to write a letter of apology to the headmaster about your misbehavior and tell him that you were disciplined at home as well."

Another nod.

"Now you will apologize to me now."

Peter, still feeling angry at being spanked twice, gave his father a half-hearted apology which only resulted in more spanking. "Ohhh, wait daddy stop. I'm sorry, okay, I'm sorrrrryyyy!"

John gave Peter two more sharp smacks to his bottom before loosening his grip and pulling the childs clothes back into place. Then he tried to pull Peter into a comforting hug. Peter usually would fall into the comfort fiercely, but today he simply pulled away.

"I hate you," Peter wailed at his father. He burst into fresh tears as he fled the room in search of his mother's safe arms.

John sighed. Getting up slowly he went in search of his child. Peter may be angry at him but he also needed to be assured that no matter how he felt his father loved him and would always be there for him.

* * *

Peter sobbed quietly into his mother's shoulder having found her in the living room a short way from the study. She had obviously heard the punishment and continued to comfort the sobbing child as he apologized brokenly to her.

"Shhh, my darling, it's alright. All is forgiven. Hush," Ida crooned. "It will be alright, but you didn't have to be so disrespectful to your father either, my boy. Imagine how hurt you would feel if your dad told you he hated you."

Peter blinked. He hadn't thought of it like that before.

John was leaning against the doorway as Peter turned to him and rushed into his arms. "I'm sorry daddy, I don't hate you. I DON'T!" Peter hugged him fiercely. John cuddled him to his chest as he walked over to the sofa and sat beside his wife.

"I know, baby boy. Calm yourself Peter. Everything's alright." He cuddled Peter gently rocking back and forth. He pressed his lips to Peter's forehead. "I love you, Peter! No matter what, never forget how much I love you."

**Finally finished. School got in the way but it's finally done! Please review!**


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